by Polly James
“It will be,” says Pearl. “I hate bloody lilies. The smell always makes me think of funeral homes, which is not something you want to be reminded of at my age.”
She looks over at Albert, who laughs and says, “Too true. Not when there’s still so much living to do.”
For him and Pearl, that may be true. For me, lilies seem the perfect choice, if they also symbolise the death of other things – like Dan-related hopes and dreams.
* * *
Eva arrives, just as Pearl and Albert are leaving, so it seems as if everyone’s come to an agreement to make sure I’m not left alone during my first day back at home. Everyone apart from Dan, that is. Joel says he phoned earlier to check whether I’d got home okay, but didn’t want to “bother” me by speaking to me himself.
“Oh,” I say.
“I’m sure he’ll come round tomorrow, or the next day, Mum,” says Joel. “Or soon, anyway.”
Joel doesn’t sound any more convinced by that than I am, so when he goes out to collect the takeaway he’s ordered, I ask Eva to log on to Pammy’s No-kay Cupid account. Maybe Dan’s been more open with the pint-sized one about what is going on with him.
Eva can’t understand why I haven’t checked Pammy’s emails already. She says she’d have done it “as soon as Dan started behaving like a weirdo”.
“I couldn’t,” I say. “I’m still not allowed to look at screens, though I’m not sure why. I assume it’ll cause long-term brain damage if I do.”
“It’s arguable that took place months ago,” says Eva, as she picks up my laptop and opens it.
That’s when I discover that, if I hadn’t clicked that thing that remembers your passwords when I first set up my No-kay Cupid account, no one would be able to access Pammy’s emails ever again, as I can’t recall my log-in details.
“It’s probably temporary amnesia,” says Eva, “due to the accident. I wouldn’t worry, if I were you.”
I’m reassured for all of thirty seconds, until she opens Pammy’s inbox, and scrolls through the contents.
“There’s nothing new in here,” she says, after a cursory glance at the screen. “The last thing Danny sent Pammy was just before my party, when he was going on about sweeping her off her feet – or you off yours.”
Eva’s not supposed to be actually reading the messages, but that doesn’t matter half as much as the fact that Dan’s dropped Pammy, as well as me. I’m not sure who’s taking it hardest, me or her, and I’m still trying to deal with this latest blow when my mobile rings. It’s Joel, calling from Nando’s.
“My money-off voucher’s expired, Mum,” he says. “So it’s going to cost more than I thought. Can I use your card to pay for it, as I haven’t got enough cash on me? I’ve just realised I’ve still got it from when the hospital gave me your belongings to look after.”
I tell him to go ahead and am just about to remind him to get me a portion of savoury rice when I realise that he’s already begun the transaction. In the background, someone says, “Please enter your PIN.”
“Joel,” I say. “Stop! I can’t remember the number!”
There are four beeps and then Joel says, in a low voice, “Don’t be stupid, Mum. It’s the same PIN you use for everything, including the parental controls on the TV. I worked that out years ago.”
If he’s so clever, then maybe he can also work out what’s gone wrong with Dan. Eva’s only halfway there. She says she has no idea why Dan’s being so cold to me, but it’s obvious why he’s cross with Pammy.
“She stood him up,” she says. “You should have seen the state he was in at my party. I recognised him from that photo you keep beside the bed, so I was watching him, though he didn’t realise who I was. He kept pacing around the room looking at his watch, and then, all of a sudden, he got his phone out, listened for a few seconds and went hurtling out of the room.”
If Eva spotted Dan at the party, on the basis of a barely-seen photo, then Joel would definitely have recognised him, and Catwoman, too. Thank God my accident interrupted his gatecrashing plan.
I’m in the middle of saying so to Eva when Joel walks through the door and demands to know why we’re talking about him.
“I was telling Eva what a good son you are,” I say, “and how fast you got to the hospital once you heard what had happened to me, especially when you should have been partying instead.”
“That’s me,” says Joel, “devoted to my dear little Mum.”
He’s not even being sarcastic, so I blow him a kiss which is harder work than it sounds, what with my puffy Pammy lips. I’m not sure it compensates Joel for missing the party, though. Eva says that was really good.
Chapter 56
The concussion must be wearing off, as things are coming into clearer focus now. That’s probably why I spend my second day back at home in a state of abject misery.
Pearl’s bewildered by how fed up I am, as she says I’m lucky to be alive, and Joel seems to feel the same. He calls me after he’s finished work to say he’s going round to Dan’s to return a witch’s hat he borrowed from Bonkers Alice during his last-minute fancy-dress emergency, which reminds me I’ve forgotten to deal with my Catwoman suit. That’s still under the bed.
I’ve only just packed it into its box and hidden it safely from view when Joel comes home and starts regaling me with supposedly funny anecdotes about Dan’s flatmates in an attempt to cheer me up. As these all involve marital breakdowns, his good intentions misfire a bit.
Aasim’s wife has thrown him out again. She caught him smoking an e-cigarette behind the garden shed.
“I can’t see why that’s a problem,” I say. “Surely e-cigs are better than cigarettes?”
“Not when you’re filling them with cannabis oil,” says Joel, who enjoys Aasim’s catastrophic attempts to reconcile with his wife much more than I’ve enjoyed my equally disastrous ones to get back with Dan. Maybe that’s because Joel’s still so anti-relationships, especially now that Marlon’s “so loved-up”.
“He’s busy tonight and tomorrow evening, too,” says Joel, in disgust.
Presumably being too busy is also why Dan still hasn’t been round to visit me. Maybe this new project’s taking up all of his time, seeing as Pammy isn’t.
“Talking of busy, how’s your dad doing, Joel?” I ask. “What’s he been up to this last few days?”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Mum,” says Joel. “You two really get on my nerves, trying to use me to find out what the other one’s up to all the time. I had to tell Dad to cut it out when I was round at his house earlier.”
“Cut what out?” I say.
I can’t imagine why Dan would be asking what I’m up to as he must know it’s nothing exciting, unless he’d find moving from bed to sofa and back again a lot more thrilling than I do. Not being able to use a computer or watch TV is leaving me with too much time on my hands, and my anxiety levels are through the roof. I’ve got weeks of this ahead before I’m allowed back to work, by which time I’ll probably be a halfwit myself.
“Cut out asking if you’ve got a boyfriend,” says Joel, who’s finally decided to answer my question, despite it being against his ridiculous “parental engagement” rules. He pauses, then adds, “A serious one. Were you telling me the truth when you said that you’d split up with Jude?”
I promise I was, and even invite him to look into my eyes if he doesn’t believe me, but he’s too distracted to take up the offer. He’s contemplating the side of his thumb, which is bleeding because he’s just chewed a hangnail. That’s not the only thing wrong with his hands, as now I can see that his fingernails have been bitten right down to the quick.
I’m about to ask when this destructive new habit started when he returns to the subject of Dan.
“Even when I broke my rule and told Dad you hadn’t got a boyfriend, he still refused to believe me.”
Having just looked into a mirror for the first time since the accident, I can’t see why. I’m not a pretty sight.
* * *
The evenings are really drawing in since I got out of hospital, and I’ve been sitting in the dark feeling sorry for myself ever since Pearl went home at 4pm today. She did offer to stay longer, as Joel’s got to work late this evening, and Eva can’t come round to take his place, but I told her I’d be fine. I just can’t be bothered to turn on the light.
There’s a cold draught coming through the window behind the sofa that I’m lying on, so I pull myself upright intending to yank the curtains closed, but then there’s a loud bang, followed by a shower of golden sparks forming glowing seed heads in the sky. It’s Guy Fawkes’ night, which I’d forgotten about until now.
I prop myself up more comfortably and watch the fireworks light up the sky, as I recall the first time Dan bought Joel a packet of sparklers and taught him to write his name by waving them about in mid-air. I love sparklers, far more than fireworks that are often more loud noise than spectacle. There are a lot of that type going off around the house tonight, which is why I don’t immediately realise that someone’s banging at the door – until they really go for it.
I get up and make my way warily across the room, as I still haven’t switched on the light, and I’ve been prone to dizziness when standing up since the accident. There’s another volley of banging at the front door as I open it, at which point Eva comes flying inside as if she’s just been fired from a cannon.
“Have you heard from Dan?” she asks, as another series of rockets start to go off nearby.
“No, I haven’t,” I say. “Why?”
My voice is almost drowned out by the noise outside, so Eva turns and shuts the front door I’ve accidentally left wide open.
“Because I’ve just seen him out on a date with someone,” she says.
She reaches out to steady me as I stagger, and then almost fall.
* * *
I’m back in the living room now, though getting here wasn’t without incident. First I stubbed my toe on the foot of the sofa and then I tripped over the coffee table while I was still hopping on one foot due to the pain in the big toe of the other one. At that point, Eva asked me why the hell the light wasn’t on, and then – once she’d remedied that oversight – she went into the kitchen to get ice for my toe, and to search for alcohol.
Now she’s just walked back into the living room, carrying a sandwich bag of crushed ice in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other. I can only assume the latter belongs to Joel, as it certainly doesn’t belong to me.
“You saw Dan out with someone?” I say, as Eva puts the sandwich bag on my foot and then sits down facing me. “Are you sure?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” she says.
She opens the vodka, pours a generous shot into a rather grubby-looking glass, then takes a slug. Then she repeats the pouring process, but this time hands the glass to me.
“Drink that,” she says. “You’re going to need it.”
I shake my head and pass the glass straight back to her.
“I’m not supposed to drink alcohol yet,” I say.
“No, well, lots of things aren’t supposed to happen,” says Eva. “But they still fucking do.”
She downs the second shot of vodka almost as if she’s unaware that she’s doing so, then tells me that, not only has she just seen Dan out on a date with someone, but “that someone was someone we both know”.
As the firework display outside reaches its crescendo, she adds, “It was Esther.”
Chapter 57
Initially, I don’t believe what Eva’s just told me, and then I decide that, if it’s true, Esther must have run into Dan by accident and now she’s probably trying to talk him into getting back with me. The one thing she couldn’t possibly be doing is trying to steal him away from me, if you can steal someone who’s already chosen to leave you of his own accord.
“Esther wouldn’t do that to me,” I say to Eva. “She wouldn’t. I know she was a bit upset about the job thing and not being invited to your party, but she’s still my friend. She knows I still love Dan, and how much I miss him, too. I told her that after we ran into him in Tesco before my accident.”
“You’re too nice for your own good,” Eva replies, drinking yet another glass of Joel’s vodka. “That woman knows exactly what she’s doing. I waylaid her in the ladies’ loo.”
It turns out that when Eva questioned Esther about why the hell she was out with Dan, Esther told her to mind her own business because Dan’s not interested in me any more.
“Then she said he’s a really nice guy, who you were ‘obviously too selfish and stupid to appreciate’,” says Eva. “That’s a direct quote, in case you’re wondering.”
I risk a swig of vodka myself, without bothering to use a glass.
“What did you say to that?” I ask, handing Eva back the bottle.
“I called her a prize bitch,” she says, “which I now think was far too moderate.”
I agree, especially once Eva tells me that when she asked Esther how she proposed to go on working in the same place as me while making a play for my husband, Esther corrected her and said, “ex-husband”. Then she said it didn’t matter what I thought as, if I didn’t like it, I could leave my job.
“She even claimed you wouldn’t be missed if you did,” says Eva, “which I’m sure is a big fat lie.”
Eva’s so angry, she’s almost in tears by now. I’m already there.
“I’m glad someone thinks I’m still worth something,” I say, searching my pockets for a tissue.
There isn’t one, so I resort to wiping my nose on my sleeve. I’m past caring about social niceties, and anyway, Eva doesn’t notice. She’s far too busy ranting about Esther’s treachery.
“I even thought about appealing to her better nature,” she says, “but then I realised I couldn’t tell that absolute witch that you and Dan were on the verge of a reconciliation, without telling her that you’d been talking to him as someone else online. And I didn’t think you’d want him to find out about that from her!”
I don’t know what I want any more, other than for everything to go back to how it was at the end of last year, before Dan and I had that stupid argument. Now my Titanic dream is coming true: he’s rowing away from me and Joel, as fast as he can, and with Esther sitting next to him in the bloody lifeboat. She’s probably cheering while we drown.
Eva looks at her phone then says, “Shit! I’m sorry, Han, I have to go outside for a moment. That was my date asking how much longer I’ll be. I forgot he’d brought me here, so he’s been waiting up the road since I arrived.”
She hugs me hard and I hug back, even though it hurts a bit. My shoulder’s still sore from when I bounced off the bonnet of the 4x4 and into the road.
Eva notices my sharp intake of breath and releases me, pulling back to look into my face.
“I’d ignore him and wait until he buggers off,” she says, “but I really like this one –”
“Don’t be silly,” I say. “You go. I’ll be fine. Honestly.”
I think I make that sound convincing, even though fine is the opposite of how I feel. Not only have I lost Dan, but I’ve lost him to one of my closest friends – Esther, that two-faced bitch from hell – and now I’m going to lose Eva too, if she’s finally met someone she likes so much. I’ll be back to Billy-No-Mates before you can say Jack Robinson.
“I’ll come back tomorrow evening, and we’ll work out a plan,” says Eva. “We’ll find a way to sort this out in the long run, I promise you. We’ll kill Esther if we can’t come up with a better idea.”
We don’t need a better one, as far as I’m concerned.
* * *
I spend the next half-hour walking round and round the house in circles, like a lioness in a zoo. A dizzy, wobbly, half-blind lioness, admittedly, and one that keeps driving herself mad by envisaging her mate getting it on with another member of the pride. I just don’t know what else to do, though that doesn’t stop me racking my brains in an attempt to find a quick solution.
First I
decide to get a taxi to the pub where Eva saw Dan and Esther together, and to create a major scene when I arrive, but then I decide I can’t humiliate myself like that. Not in public, anyway, and not when I’ve still got the world’s most hideous black eye.
Next, I consider going round to Dan’s house and lying in wait in a bush again, ready to jump out wielding an axe if Esther should come home with him. But what if Dan goes to hers instead, and then I end up lying in the bush all night? I could be dead of hypothermia by the time the morning comes.
Each new solution is more problematic than the last, so eventually I stop pacing and sit down on the sofa.
I’m paralysed by indecision, hurt and jealousy. And I cannot understand how any of this could have happened. I thought my only rival was Pammy, but maybe there are hundreds of the buggers? It’s time to renege on my no-snooping rule, even if that does mean risking brain damage from using a screen.
I turn on my laptop and then log into Danny’s No-kay Cupid account; thankfully he hasn’t changed the password. Probably because he’s been too busy dating every woman on the planet to worry about internet security, all while pretending to be solely devoted to PintSizedPammy.
I open his inbox and scroll upwards past all his messages until I reach the latest ones, and that’s when I find something I wasn’t expecting. Yes, it’s an email from someone new, with a thumbnail of her profile picture attached, which I sort-of was expecting. But despite the fact that the photo’s been taken from an angle, I wasn’t expecting to recognise the woman in it. The only reason I do, is because it’s Esther.
She’s pouting as if her life depended on it, and I’m temporarily overwhelmed by the force of the hatred that washes over me when I look at her, but then I take some deep breaths and open the email she sent to Dan. At that point, everything becomes crystal clear.
The date on the email shows it was sent on the same day I asked Dan to contact Esther to inform her of my accident, later on that same evening.
From: Esther Wood
To: Dan Pinkman
Subject: Hannah